Colorado Sunrise
by Unstable Firestarter
Summary: Deadpool and a female assassin work together to find out why they were set up to fight each other, and along the way they uncover a dark plan that concerns the fate of the world and perhaps a mutual attraction.  Deadpool/OC.
1. The Set Up

**A/N: **Ahh, the start to a proper story. This marks my _second_ official time writing Deadpool, so again, ah, be gentle with any comments. I'm still getting comfortable with him and working on climbing inside his head, so to speak. This fic might be slow going to start with because I don't know what exactly to do with the second chapter yet even, but I have many ideas for later sections so I hope to make it that far. As is to be expected, Deadpool and any other characters who might appear later on belong to Marvel. Chinara, Christos and Korey are mine though. Rated M for language and violence primarily.

* * *

_**Chapter One – The Set Up**_

She sighed as she sat down on one of the benches in the large park. It was a popular place despite that it was in the middle of November and everywhere she looked there were people; kids playing with their dogs, mothers pushing strollers, men jogging. The fact that there were so many people around made her on edge. Chinara Krivak was a cautious person and under normal circumstances she would have never agreed to such a public meeting place. However, this was not only a high paying job but she was going to be working with Deadpool.

She usually worked alone-she was a solitary person-but she had heard a lot about Deadpool, both good and bad, so she was curious to meet him. That alone was enough to bring her out here but it wasn't enough to stop her from being alert. She was constantly looking around, blue eyes sweeping over her surroundings, and her gaze kept lingering on the tall building that was across the street from the park. She was fairly certain that, if this was a trap and she was going to be ambushed, the attack would come from there.

Chances were she was probably just being paranoid though and thinking too deeply on matters. Active thinking was what kept her alive and made her a successful assassin though. If she _didn't_ think about things as much as she did she would have made many fatal errors by now. People trusted her because she was good at what she did. She was serious and professional. She got the job done cleanly and without fail.

She just wished this wasn't a public place. If it was private she would be wearing her Onyxlock gear, but right now she was in average clothes-a tank top, jacket, jeans and boots. She felt vulnerable, but at least she was always armed. That helped at least a little.

With a sigh she looked around again, pushing her long white hair back over her shoulder when it got in her way. Sometimes keeping it in a ponytail just wasn't good enough. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of dozens of different emotions, and wrinkled her nose. Smelling emotions was one of her abilities but it wasn't always pleasant. Some emotions, like anger and hate, smelled foul, while others were sweet. Currently she didn't detect anything that seemed like a threat, so she relaxed a little.

He was late though. A glance at her watch told her he should have been here ten minutes ago. Maybe he didn't like public places either. She was going to leave if he didn't show up soon though. Fifteen more minutes at the most and then she was gone. She was sure she could find better things to do with her time other than sitting here waiting.

Just as she sighed again she picked up an odd sound, something different than she had grown used to hearing in the park. It was faint, far away, but her incredibly sharp hearing picked it up. It was metallic, the sound of a gun being cocked, she realized abruptly. She tensed, looking around quickly. There were maybe a few, brief seconds before it would be too late, and so without thinking she dove to the side, hitting the ground and rolling.

She acted not a second too soon because the next moment a gunshot rang out. A wooden plank of the bench she'd been sitting on exploded, splinters flying through the air. It would have been a headshot had she still been seated, she was sure.

People were screaming and fleeing the area now but she was ignoring them, instead focusing all her attention on listening to the prelude to another gunshot. She had been right-this was a trap or a set up. Likely both. Someone wanted her dead and they'd almost succeeded. The keyword in there though was almost-she didn't go down that easily.

When the second gunshot came, Chinara was already in motion, rolling out of the way again. It was a close shot though, the bullet kicking up dust and clods of dirt next to her. She kept moving this time, vaulting to her feet and running. She headed towards a sign that was near by-it was one of those big wooden ones that displayed the open hours for the park and the special activities. It was also facing the street so it was good for cover. Or rather…it was the _only_ cover.

She dove behind the sign, scraping her shoulder along the ground, but ignored the pain. It was fading swiftly anyway. Crouching down low she lifted her hands a little, concentrating, and within a few seconds a pair of guns formed out of thin air. That was another one of her abilities, the ability to create weapons out of nothing. It was quite useful, though taxing after a while.

As she was crouched there trying to figure out where exactly the shooter was a bullet dug through the sign right next to her head, imbedding into the ground. _Damn that was close_. Shifting to the side she peered out around the edge of the sign, quickly trying to determine whether the shooter was at the roof or one of the windows. She didn't have enough time to figure it out though before she was forced to pull back to avoid being shot.

Her attempts only got her so far though as the next moment there was another shot, the bullet ripping through the sign and her shoulder. Chinara grimaced in pain, raising one hand to her shoulder as she dropped lower to the ground. Blood blossomed across the shoulder of her jacket as she hissed in pain and she squirmed down further to avoid more gunfire.

At least the wound was already healing, flesh and muscles stitching themselves back together. Swift healing, another thing she had on her side. Not that she often needed it because she prided herself on not getting injured on the job.

This wasn't going to work, being pinned down like this. Whoever was attacking her would be in for a nasty surprise though if they thought she was unarmed and thus defenseless. Closing her eyes tightly to help with her concentration she melded the guns into one lump, from there molding them into a rocket launcher. She was unable to tell exactly where her shooter was, so a big explosion would have to do. She just hoped that there weren't innocent people in that building. With the way her luck was going today though there probably was.

There wasn't anything else to do; she had limited options. She had to defend herself and this seemed to be the best course of action. Shifting into a crouch and lifting the rocket launcher onto her shoulder she moved out from behind the sign. She took aim in the general direction she thought the shooter was and then fired. She cringed inwardly as a whole section of the building exploded, glass windows shattering and chunks of concrete raining down through the air.

She waited a few long moments to see if there would be any more gunfire and when there wasn't she breathed a sigh of relief. Uncreating the rocket launcher, letting it shrink down into nothing, she moved to sit on the ground, leaning against the back of the sign. What a day and it was only noon.

Sighing she unzipped her jacket, carefully peeling it away from her injured shoulder to survey the wound. It had healed completely, leaving nothing but a very faint scar.

She supposed she should get out of here now before someone called the police or something. Actually, someone had probably done that already. All the more reason to get out of here before things got ugly. The sound of footsteps reached her and she tensed a little, shifting to get her feet under her so that she would be able to get up soon. Before she could stand though the sign above her was abruptly cleaved in half and she swiftly raised her hands to deflect it as it fell, pushing it away from her.

Reflexes kicked in and she dove to the side, rolling and coming up on her feet facing where her attacker would be standing. Confusion swept over her when she saw the man standing there, struggling to process the red and black that he wore. Wasn't he-? Something didn't compute here, something _really_ wasn't right.

"It'll take more than that to kill me," he said, "But that was an interesting trick, with the rocket launcher and all. Do you have really big pockets or something?"

She didn't answer him, just recreated a pair of guns in her hands-he was armed, and so she felt she should be too. He was obviously trying to kill her after all, for whatever reasons. This was no time to think, only to act.

"Oh, so _that's_ how you do it? Just outta thin air like that? What else can you make, anything at all-how about a pizza? Oh, oh, or what about a burrito? I've been craving Mexican all day."

Chinara just blinked, bewildered, as she stared at him. It was one thing to hear things about someone and another entirely to experience them first hand. He was talking just for the sake of talking it seemed, and she, just for that one brief moment, was stupid enough to just stand there and listen.

By the time she realized that he was moving it was too late to dodge the kick to her stomach. She stumbled back a few steps but managed to keep her balance instead of falling. Reacting swiftly she raised both of her guns and fired. Her shots missed as he dodged to the left, and then it was her turn to dodge to avoid being shot or slashed by his katana.

"Wait just a minute!" she said, but her voice was drowned out by more gunfire and she darted to the side, a bullet winging her arm. A streak of blood stained her hoodie sleeve but she didn't give it a second thought as the wound mended itself, not even leaving a mark.

Chinara twisted to the side, her next shot hitting him in the shoulder, and for just a moment she took her eyes off of him. In that one moment he hit her upside the head with his gun and she crumpled to the ground at the blow, her head swimming, but retained enough composure to roll to a crouch. She was dizzy, nearly pitching over to the side, but balanced herself enough to aim both guns in his direction. The gesture was returned as he sheathed his sword, but for the moment neither of them fired.

"You're not quite what I was expecting from what they told me. Hot, yes, but not a weapon making mutant," he said, cocking his head to the side.

She shook her head a bit, her vision starting to clear. "You're Deadpool, right?" she said, "I was here to meet you. We were supposed to work together on a job."

"Is that so?" he said, considering her words. "Yeah, I'm Deadpool, but I never heard anything about working with someone."

"I suspect that's because we've been set up," Chinara said, working on catching her breath.

"Well maybe _you_ were set up, miss Welborn, but I-"

"Pardon? Who?" She had no qualms interrupting him. Her brows furrowed together in an expression of bewilderment.

"You're not…Anita Welborn?" he guessed, seeming mildly confused at her genuine question.

_Anita Welborn_. That name sounded so familiar to her. She couldn't help but laugh a little when she figured out why, though it was a humorless laugh. "No. No I'm not," she said, "I killed her a few years ago. That probably means that Samuel Marlowe doesn't exist anymore either."

"Probably not," Deadpool agreed, "I just usually don't remember their names."

She continued to eye him warily even though it was becoming more and more apparent that they had no reason to right. Eventually, hesitantly, she lowered her guns. "Vincent Burch. He hired me," she said.

There was a pause, a moment of silence.

"Shit," Deadpool said, lowering his own gun, "I wonder if this means I'm not getting paid then."

Chinara could only assume that he'd been hired by the same man, if this person even existed at all, which she was doubting by this point. It was probably a fake name. "Most likely not," she said, rising to stand straight, guns still in her hands but held loosely, "Seems as though we were both set up."

Deadpool narrowed his eyes. "_Someone's_ going pay for this. Where do they get off thinking they can set me up? Lie to me about a paying job and get away with it? I don't think so. On the other hand," his whole demeanor abruptly changed, much friendlier now as he continued, "How's about you and I put our heads together on this? We could mosey on back to your place and do some _serious_ thinking. What do you say?"

She blinked a few times, processing what he was saying. Was…was he _hitting on_ her? She snorted softly, uncreating her guns and crossing her arms over her chest. The idea of working together though…there might be something there with that. Someone had set them _both_ up after all. "Perhaps we _should_ work together, though not the way you're thinking. Someone set us up, wanted me _dead_, and personally I want to know why," she said.

"I want to know why too, babe, but I don't play well with others. It just doesn't work out," he replied.

"Suit yourself," Chinara said with a shrug, turning and starting to walk away.

"Hey," Deadpool called after her, "I didn't get your name."

"I didn't give it," she said over her shoulder, not stopping, "Maybe next time, if there _is_ a next time."


	2. Bombs

**A/N: **Sorry about the long wait for an update everyone. I just sort of ended up hitting a giant wall of writer's block, and then all of a sudden last night the rest of this chapter began to flow. I've been on a roll today, in between shopping and class, and I've finished not only this chapter, but chapter three as well, which I will be getting up whenever I finish typing and coding it.

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_**Chapter Two** – **Bombs**_

It had taken her days to turn up any leads on her 'employer', and after digging up some information on a location and a schedule, she had made her way to where his office supposedly was. It hadn't been a difficult task to sneak into the building and avoid security. She was good at being inconspicuous and remaining undetected, but somehow it seemed too easy to get inside. From her previous experience in the park, she feared that this too could be some sort of set up, but when she opened the door to 'Vincent Burch's office there was nothing and no one inside.

Chinara frowned a little as she closed the door behind her silently. She left the lights off, not wanting to be spotted, and crept over to the large oak desk-there was enough natural light coming in through the windows for her to see despite the fact that it was night. She felt more secure this time; she'd come prepared, dressed in her Onyxlock outfit and with a knife at her hip.

Her 'Onyxlock' outfit was what she typically wore on her assassination jobs and it consisted of a few special parts. There was the black sleeveless shirt and matching shorts, paired with knee high boots and metal shin guards. The most important part of her outfit though, in her opinion at least, was the gauntlet and pauldron she wore on her right arm. The colors-burnt orange and silver-and engravings on the metal matched those of her shin guards. True that it was limited protection but she'd always found it suitable in the past-to each their own, after all.

Pulling open the drawers in the desk as quietly as possible she began sifting through the papers there. Lifting them up into the light she frowned at them. They were…not what she was expecting. They seemed to be random, nonsense, not actual documents but fakes. Her feeling of unease returned as she put the papers back in the drawer and shut it quietly.

She still hoped to find something useful and went over to one of the filing cabinets. She was just reaching out for the handle of the first drawer when the door to the office swung open and someone walked in.

She flinched in surprise, backing away swiftly, and turned towards the door. She cursed herself for not hearing the sound of approaching footsteps-even without her sensitive hearing, which she actually had to focus on for it to be truly affective (which she was also grateful for because otherwise hearing every little sound all of the time would drive her insane), she should have noticed someone out in the hallway.

However, much to her continued surprise, it wasn't security or anyone else who worked in the building. Considering who it turned out to be though she wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

"You!" she said in a hushed voice, the one word sounding more accusing than she meant it to.

"_Me_," Deadpool echoed, seeming equally surprised to see her, "Well, well, we meet again. How's it hanging, Nancy Drew? Find any clues?"

Chinara simply looked at him for a moment before sighing a little and shaking her head. "No," she replied flatly, running a hand through her bangs, "So far it seems like this whole office could be a rouse." She wasn't going to ask what he was doing here; he probably got a lead just like she did. It was just a coincidence that they ended up here at the same time.

"Maybe it's fate. Or maybe there's stalking involved," Deadpool mused aloud.

She raised a brow, staring at him. "Pardon?"

"You wouldn't understand. No one does. You should really try opening your mind more though, sometimes it gets really boring being the only one who sees the bigger picture," he said, heading over to the filing cabinets next to where she stood.

Chinara stepped out of the way, moving over by the windows. "Right…" she said, not sure what to think of him or what he was saying.

She crossed her arms and turned slightly to gaze out the window, silent for the moment as she listened to him going through the drawers of the filing cabinets. From the way he was muttering to himself he didn't seem to be finding anything either.

"_Jinkies_."

Or maybe not. Right now was a moment she would actually like to be proven wrong-she needed more leads and information to go off of. She wanted to find out why she'd been set up to be killed. She turned back towards him, about to ask if he'd found something, but never got the chance to.

"Bomb!" he said, dashing towards her, "And not like 'you're the bomb', but the kind that explodes."

She barely had time to register what was going on before she'd been lifted off her feet and there was the sound of breaking glass. It was when she found herself tumbling through the air next to him that she realized he'd pushed her out the window. What was that he'd said? Bomb? She wasn't inclined to believe him until she saw the explosion, flames spitting out the window of the office where they'd been just a few seconds ago.

She hit the ground awkwardly, feeling a rib or two snap from the impact. Considering that it'd been the fourth floor window though, she was glad those were _all_ the injuries she sustained. Didn't make it any less painful though or make it any easier for her to breathe. Wincing she shifted over to lie flat on her back to take unneeded painful pressure off of her ribs.

"The _window_?" Chinara asked once she managed to gasp in a breath.

"'Gee, thanks for saving my life, Deadpool, I owe you' 'No need to thank me, little lady. How about we go somewhere private and you can repay me?'," Deadpool said.

"…The _window_ though?" she repeated, blinking up at the night sky. She chose to simply ignore the fact that he seemed to be hitting on her again.

"Could've just let you get blown up. There are plenty of other pretty faces out there, you know. See if I care about saving your hide next time there's a bomb," he said sulkily.

Frowning a bit at his words she sat up, one hand pressed carefully over her side, feeling the broken ribs there. "I don't get you…" she said honestly.

"No one does. That's part of my charm though," he said, getting to his feet and brushing shards of glass from his clothes.

Chinara didn't respond to that, she was just quiet for a moment. "Thanks…" she said at last, knowing she should be grateful despite her now broken ribs which would take hours to a day or so to heal.

"So, you got a name short stuff or should I just keep calling you whatever I want?" Deadpool inquired.

She hesitated for a moment as she climbed to her feet, wincing a little. "It's Chinara," she replied, "I also go by Onyxlock, though only when I'm on a job." She liked things that way, going by an alias instead of her real name when she had an assignment or was talking to possible employers.

"Onyxlock," he repeated thoughtfully, "Nope, never heard of you."

"Good," she said, not bothered in the least, "I expend a lot of effort to be sure I stay off the grid."

"Obviously _someone's_ heard of you though if they want you dead," he pointed out.

"Obviously," she repeated with a sigh. "Someone doesn't seem to like _you_ very much either though," she added.

"Or they just knew the right man to go to to get the job done," he said.

She arched a brow. "Says the guy who didn't complete the job _and_ just nearly got blown up," she said.

"Would you rather I just finish it here and now?" Deadpool asked.

She couldn't smell his emotions, couldn't read his expression-couldn't even see his face-so she couldn't tell if he was serious or not. She really had to move past those hang ups. "Of course not," she said with a forced roll of her eyes to give the impression that she wasn't intimidated by him at all.

"It'd be a waste anyway, especially if I ain't getting paid for it," he said with a shrug, "Besides, I'm sure you're much more fun alive."

Chinara rolled her eyes for real this time. She was beginning to wonder why she'd ever been curious to meet him. "Look, if all you're going to do is flirt with me-and badly, may I add-then I need to cut this conversation short because I have more important things to do."

"More important things to do than me?" Deadpool said.

Her palm was almost introduced to her forehead, but she settled for sighing and shaking her head instead. She turned and began to walk away.

"Hey, I can't help it if you leave yourself open for these things," he called after her.

"Goodbye, Deadpool," she said simply.

He gazed after her, trying to think of something to say that would make her stay. Lots of options came to mind, but even he could tell that most of them would get him slapped-or worse.

"Wait! What if we work together?"

She stopped at that, turning back to face him. "Why would you want to do that? Why would _I_ want to do that?" she inquired with a frown.

_You're hot; do I need any further reasons? Holy shit, I have inner monologue now, it's about time, chick with the pen and notebook and later a keyboard, only took you a chapter and a half._

**Shut up and let's move on with what's left of this chapter.**

_So when do I get laid?_

**Never, if the storyline doesn't progress.**

He pouted a little but finally took to answering Chinara's question. "Because we were both set up, right? And two heads are better than one and all that jazz," he said.

She hesitated. Was he really someone she could use to help with the intellectual side of all this? Sure, if she wanted to kill some people he'd be perfect, but otherwise she just wasn't sure. "Well…"

"I know what you're thinking," Deadpool said, "And contrary to popular belief, I'm not stupid. I'm an idiot, and I'm insane, but I'm not stupid."

She just stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out where in the world he'd pulled that logic from. "Isn't…stupid and being an idiot the same thing?" she asked.

"Actually, no," he said.

"Alright then." She continued to stare at him, one brow raised.

"So whadda say? Don't make me have to beg," he added.

"Fine, fine," she relented, if only to maybe get him to stop talking.

_I never stop talking, doesn't she know that?_

Obviously not, or she wouldn't be wishing you'd shut up.

"So we're working together now? For real? Cool. So now we're like Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, Daphne and Fred-"

"I'd peg you as Shaggy instead of Fred," she interrupted him, crossing her arms, "If Shaggy packed Uzi's and katanas."

"Speaking of _pegging_," he started.

Chinara rolled her eyes, not needing to be a mind reader to be able to tell where this conversation was heading again. "Give it a rest, would you?" she said, turning to leave.

"I didn't even get to finish," he complained.

"You didn't have to," she replied over her shoulder, "The answer's _no_."

"Alright, play hard to get. I don't give up that easy," he said.

At last, her palm was finally formally introduced to her forehead.


	3. Personal Space Invasion Abounds!

**A/N: **Aaaand here's chapter three. Not much to say about it. Forgive me if I mess anything up relating to the airport stuff, I've never been on a plane before, only been in an airport a few times. Tried to keep it basic so I wouldn't venture too far into unknown territory.

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**Chapter Three** – **Personal Space Invasion Abounds!**

The next few days, just like the last couple, were spent working to gather any further information. Much to Chinara's displeasure, this also meant working with Deadpool. At best his presence was barely tolerable, at worst she wanted to stab him in the throat just so that he couldn't talk anymore. She restrained herself from doing so though. It would be quite rude and she didn't hurt people without a good reason. Sadly, talking enough to melt her brain wasn't on her list of good reasons.

Eventually though, she got a lead that would take them to Phoenix. As in, Arizona. She disliked this for a number of reasons, the top ones being traveling with Deadpool and sharing a hotel room with Deadpool. Nonetheless, there was supposedly a man in Phoenix who could give them information on Vincent Burch. Or rather, the man who was using Vincent Burch's name.

Holding true to their agreement that they were working together, she filled Deadpool in on what she had found out, scheduled a flight for them, and told her to meet him in the café that was in the airport in San Diego, the city where she lived. She had packed light, just a single carry on bag. Sometimes things were made easy by the fact that she could just create a weapon out of thin air. However, airport security meant she had to leave her gauntlet and greaves behind. She had anticipated that though, and had already arranged for a friend to deliver them to her once she arrived in Phoenix. Of course she could have just traveled the way her equipment was going to, but she preferred doing some things the old fashioned way.

"Really, that's all you have, one bag? I figured you were the type of girl to travel with a lot of luggage."

The somewhat familiar voice made her look up from the absolutely useless teen magazine she had been reading out of boredom. "Deadpool?" she ventured, blinking at the tall blonde haired, blue eyed man.

"_Wade_, please. It attracts less attention," he said, sitting in one of the unoccupied chairs at the table.

"Alright," she said, blinking at him still.

"It's just a hologram," he informed her, guessing at why she was staring.

"Oh." That only served to further pique her curiosity though, which was probably why he abruptly changed the subject.

"So when's our flight leave again?"

"Soon," she replied, tossing the magazine aside on the table next to them.

"Good. I didn't want to get here too soon," Deadpool said, "Waiting makes me antsy."

"Antsy?" she repeated, "Who says that anymore?"

He shrugged. "I do, obviously. How many people say pardon anymore?" he said, referencing the word she always used whenever she was confused or wishing she had heard him wrong.

"Point taken," she relented, nodding a little. "Come on, our flight will be boarding soon and the gate's a long walk from here," she added, standing and picking up her carry on bag.

"I could always carry you, it'd probably be quicker that way," he suggested.

"You'll do no such thing," Chinara said with a frown, watching him collect his own bag.

"Why not?" he asked, "You're small and stealable."

_Small and stealable?_ What did that even mean? She knew she was only 5'2" and a full foot shorter than him, but it didn't give him a right to just pick her up or anything.

"Because I said so," she replied.

"'Because I said so' isn't a good enough answer. Come on, you're small enough to practically be carry on luggage yourself," Deadpool said, following after her as she left the café.

"Are you insulting my height or something?" she inquired.

"No, not at all. I'm just saying that if I wanted to do _this_-" abruptly he scooped her up in his arms as easy as if she weighed no more than a feather, "-then I would. Just like that."

Chinara uttered a surprised squeak that she would deny ever making and both reached out to hold onto him and push him away at the same time. "Put me down!" she demanded, struggling to keep the strap of her bag from slipping off of her shoulder.

"But we're traveling faster this way," he said, "What gate'm I lookin' for?"

"_Flight to Phoenix now boarding at Gate 6_," a friendly woman's voice announced over the speakers.

"Never mind," he amended.

"Put me down!" she repeated, more firmly than before, and tried to ignore the looks people were giving them. And the fact that Deadpool's hand was inexplicably traveling towards her ass.

"Honeymoon," he informed the group of young women they passed who were staring at them.

"I swear to god if you don't put me down in the next ten seconds, you are going to regret it," Chinara hissed.

"What do you say?" he asked.

"What do I-?" she repeated in confusion, "…Please?"

"There you go," he said, and set her down on her feet, his hand narrowing avoiding making contact with her ass.

She glared at him for a moment before straightening her shirt. "Thank you," she said curtly.

"Can I ask you something?" he said as she placed her bag on the conveyor belt that would scan luggage for anything dangerous.

"You're going to anyway, so why not?" Chinara sighed a little, stepping through the metal detector. She didn't wear jewelry and she didn't have anything metallic on her so everything went smoothly with that.

"Do you _ever_ blush or smile or anything?" he asked, following her through the metal detector once she had been approved.

The machine beeped and the attendant asked him to empty his pockets into the little plastic basket and try again.

"I only smile if I have a reason to," she told him, watching him fish around in his pockets, pulling out change and such.

"Being with me isn't a reason to smile?" Deadpool said, stepping through the metal detector again.

For the second time, it beeped. The attendant sighed and asked him if he had removed _everything_ from his pockets.

"Not really," she replied honestly.

Again he fished through his pockets, pulling out more random metallic objects.

"I'll just have to change that then," he said, trying to go through the metal detector a third time.

When it beeped yet again, she joined the attendant in sighing. "When you get this sorted out, find me. I'm going to go ahead and wait." She turned, starting to walk away. "It's probably your watch," she pointed out absently.

Blinking a bit, he looked down at the watch he wore. It wasn't just for telling time, it served a rather important purpose.

_Well, this is going to be ugly._

Literally.

* * *

Chinara was just beginning to think that Deadpool was going to miss the flight when he abruptly came up the aisle next to where she was seated and proceeded to jam his bag into the carry on luggage compartment.

"Now I remember why airport security sucks," he said before plopping down in the seat next to her.

His shoulder brushed hers and she tried to lean away, but since she had the window seat there was no where she could go.

"And here I'd been thinking I was going to have a peaceful, quiet flight," she said.

"Hey, I can be quiet," Deadpool said, "I won't be though."

"Oh, joy," she said dryly.

"You need to open up more, seriously. Smile and laugh or something," he said.

"I _told_ you," she said, "I don't smile unless I have a reason."

"And why is that, exactly?" Deadpool asked.

She shrugged. "It's just the way I am," she said.

"How'd you get those scars?"

She tensed a bit at that question, resisting the instinctive urge to raise her hand to the scars over her right eye. They were scars from an injury that had temporarily blinded her as a child.

"None of your business," she said, turning away to gaze out the window next to her.

"Touchy subject?" he guessed.

"Very," she replied.

"Alright then," he said, "So what kind of music do you like?"

"What I wouldn't give for a roll of duct tape," she groaned.

"Sounds kinky. And mildly painful."

"For your _mouth_."

"Definitely painful. And useless."

"And why's that?"

"It's been tried before, didn't work."

"Headphones. I wish I had headphones. The kind that block out all the sound around you."

* * *

How, exactly, she survived the flight she would never know. She was never happier when they reached Phoenix and she could at least put some distance between herself and Deadpool. She also couldn't wait until they reached the hotel so she could arrange for the arrival of her greaves and gauntlet. She felt naked without them.

Of course, she still had to struggle through the cab ride first. Things started out well enough, Deadpool was quiet, just working some kinks out of his neck and back. Though the painful sounding cracks made her wince, they were easier to ignore than the sound of his voice as he droned on and about anything and everything.

"I could really go for a taco right now," he said, breaking the blissful silence.

She ignored him for now.

"What about you?" he asked, poking her in the side and causing her to flinch in surprise, "Do you ever eat anything, _ever_?"

"Don't do that," she said, scooting away from him a bit, though there wasn't all that much room in the backseat of the cab.

"Do what?" he asked, poking her again.

"_That_," she said, slapping at his hand.

"Why?" he poked her a third time.

"_Wade_," she said in a no-nonsense tone.

"What?" he asked innocently.

The cab driver glanced back at them in the rearview mirror and chuckled. "How long have you two been together?"

"What?" Chinara turned wide eyes to him, thinking she had to have misheard. There was no way any one would mistake them for a couple.

"Oh, a long time," Deadpool said, moving to sling an arm around her shoulders, but she elbowed him in the side before he could.

"In your dreams," she retorted, "We're just business associates."

She scooted all the way over to the window, casting a sideways glance at him. "Do you think you could stop hitting on me for just one day?" she said.

"How about one chapter?" he suggested.

"Pardon?" Chinara said, blinking in confusion.

"Never mind," he said.

_I forgot she has no idea about things like chapters._

"Just one day," she repeated. "It doesn't seem like you'd be capable of that."

"One chapter."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes skyward, giving up.


	4. Phoenix, Arizona

**A/N: **Sorry about the wait yet again, I hit more writer's block for a long while there. Also, thank you to everyone who favorited and reviewed! And, I promise the next chapter will have more action and stuff.

* * *

**Chapter Four – "Phoenix, Arizona"**

It felt good to be back in her Onyxlock gear, with the familiar gauntlet and greaves. They had been delivered promptly and discretely to her hotel room by an old friend whom she was determined to not drag into this mess. Chinara had very few friends as it was; she didn't want to lose any because they were unfortunate enough to meet Deadpool.

However, that was already in the past, and they were no longer at the hotel, but at the pre-determined location where they were supposed to meet their informant. Specifically, they were in the back room of a bar, where it was quieter and they could talk, though the man didn't seem too pleased with this seclusion. Though, how many people _would_ be comfortable with meeting an assassin and a mercenary in a secluded location?

"Tell us what you know about Vincent Burch," she said, leaning her hands on the tabletop as she gazed at the man sitting on the other side.

Loren Madia blinked at her with wide eyes, his gaze shifting from her to Deadpool, who seemed to be distracted by the calendar on the wall. "Well, I don't really know that much, really," he replied nervously.

"But you know _something_, right? So tell us," Chinara pressed, leaning a little closer.

"You guys aren't going to kill me, are you?" Loren asked, glancing back and forth again.

"Just answer the lady's question, Lauren," Deadpool said, taking the calendar off the wall to roll it up and pocket it.

Chinara decided that it was best not to ask why.

"_Loren_."

"Whatever."

"_He_ may kill you," Chinara said, gesturing to the mercenary, "But I'll only make you _wish_ I would. So you'd better just tell me what I want to know." She concluded all of that with a sweet smile that made Loren turn a few shades paler than he already was.

"Well, I know he has an office in Nevada," Loren replied quickly.

"What city?" Chinara asked.

"R-Reno," Loren stammered.

"Address." She pushed a pen and pad at him, watching as he scrambled to write it down.

Running a hand through her bangs, she turned to see why Deadpool was so unusually quiet. She found him flipping through the stack of magazines on a table by the wall. She stepped closer to peer around him and see what he was looking at, and then wrinkled her nose.

"Typical," she said, turning away.

"What is?" he asked, still distracted.

"Nothing," Chinara sighed.

She pulled the pad towards her to view the address written there, and then looked to Loren. "You know, if you're lying, I'll come back here and make sure you regret it."

Loren should his head repeatedly, "I'm not lying, and that's all I know, I swear. He's some kind of big shot CEO or something."

"Alright," Chinara said, not smelling any trace of a lie from him, just the stench of fear. "Then I guess we're done here. Let's go."

She took the top sheet off the notepad, folded it up, and slid it into her pocket. She waited a moment for Deadpool to reluctantly put down the magazines he had been browsing, and then headed out the door.

"_Nevada_," she muttered under her breath as she navigated through the dingy bar, ignoring the way men stared at her and her companion. She was sure that they both stood out horribly; a costumed mercenary and a chick with a gauntlet and greaves.

"Well, we're _not_ flying again. Airport security can kiss my ass," Deadpool said.

"What do you have in mind then?" Chinara asked, shoving open the door and stepping out onto the sidewalk where the air was cleaner yet still clogged with the scent of dozens of emotions.

"You'll see," he said cryptically.

She eyed him warily. Somehow, she didn't think she liked the sound of that.

* * *

"I'm not so sure this was a good idea," Chinara said later as she sat in the passenger seat of the large pick-up truck. For the sake of comfort she'd removed her Onyxlock gear and stashed it in the duffel bag that she now had down on the floor by her feet.

"Nonsense. This is a great idea," Deadpool said enthusiastically as he drove.

She looked over at him uneasily. "Could you at least slow down a little? I would rather not die on the way to Nevada," she said.

She may have had accelerated healing, but broken bones took days to heal, and if she was injured enough she would still die. Also, she would rather not experience the pain of becoming a smear on the pavement.

"Relax, babe. I've got this under control," he said.

They flew over a particularly rough pothole and she bounced up off the seat for a few disconcertingly long seconds. After that, she made sure that her seatbelt was firmly in place.

"Maybe I should drive," she commented.

"Hey, at least you're a little less stoic than usual," Deadpool said as if he hadn't heard her, "You seriously need to lighten up."

"'Less stoic'?" she repeated, "Only because I'm fearing for my life. I'd rather you didn't get us killed. Well, you might be fine, but who knows about me."

"We'll both be fine," he said.

"Yeah, sure." Chinara didn't really believe it though.

* * *

Later, she wasn't sure of the time, she jerked awake when the truck lurched to a stop. She had no idea how she'd managed to fall asleep considering Deadpool's driving. And his talking. At some point though, she had just dozed off.

Rubbing at her eyes, she sat up straighter and looked around. They were parked in front of a motel, its neon vacancy sign flickering every now and then.

"What time is it?" Chinara asked, pushing her bangs back from her face.

"Late," Deadpool said, "I'll get us a room."

"No," she said quickly, before he could get out of the truck, "I will." She wanted to make sure that they would be getting two separate rooms so that she could have some peace and quiet for at least a little while.

"Alright," he said with a shrug.

Chinara undid her seatbelt and opened the door, pretty much sliding out from the tall truck. She winced when her feet hit the ground and stretched out a few particularly painful kinks from her back and neck. After checking to make sure that she had cash on her, she walked around the truck and into the small front office.

There was a scruffy looking guy behind the counter, flipping through a well read magazine, though he looked up when the bell above the door chimed. "What can I do for you, little lady?" he asked.

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I need two rooms, just for one night," she said.

"Long drive?" he said, flipping his magazine closed and straightening up.

Chinara nodded wordlessly.

"Well, unfortunately there's only one room left. It's got two twin beds though," the guy said.

She groaned, dropping her hand back to her side, and glanced out the window to where Deadpool was. For a few long seconds she debated on this, and then sighed. "Alright, I'll take it," she said, though reluctantly.

A few minutes later found her standing in the middle of a depressingly small, definitely unimpressive motel room. At least there were indeed two beds. She sighed yet again, running a hand through her bangs.

"I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm going to crash," she said, turning to Deadpool, who was already sprawled across one of the beds, "And if you so much as _think_ about trying anything, I will make sure you regret it."

He opened his mouth to reply to that-

_Dude. Remember. One chapter without hitting on her._

-And then promptly shut it again, whining a little. "I remember," he said.

Chinara looked confused, but before she could speak, he continued.

"Right. I got it. No thinking about trying anything," he said. Though just _saying_ it made him think about it. Oh well, it wasn't like she could read his mind or anything.

"Good," Chinara said, though she was still a little wary.

Going into the bathroom, she made sure the door was securely locked before starting the shower. Unfortunately for a neat freak such as herself, the shower wasn't as clean as it could have been, but she was so exhausted that she ignored it.

Afterwards, she dressed again and collapsed on the bed that Deadpool wasn't occupying. Within minutes, she was asleep.


	5. Reno, Nevada

**Chapter Five**** - "Reno, Nevada"**

Chinara's peaceful sleep was interrupted by the sound of loud snoring. At first, she tried to ignore it, and curled up on her side while pulling the thin pillow over her head. It didn't help much at all. This was just her luck. Forced to share a motel room with Deadpool, and then he was going to snore so loud that she wouldn't be able to sleep.

Frustrated, she rolled over, lifting her head. "Would you stop that?" she hissed.

Predictably, she got no response.

She was just about to throw a pillow at him in the hopes of waking him up when Deadpool stopped snoring. Instead he started talking in his sleep. She groaned, picking up a pillow and drawing her arm back. She was just about to throw it when she actually _listened_ to what he was saying. Her frustration turned to confusion, and she slowly lowered her arm. Though she couldn't make out everything he was saying, it sounded like he was having nightmares.

After a few minutes, she felt unnerved. His tone of voice, coupled with the way he was thrashing about, was unsettling. It made the hair on her arms stand up, and the back of her neck prickle. Throwing the covers aside, she slid out of bed and went over to where he was. She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shook him lightly.

"Deadpool," she said.

Once more, she got no response, so she tried again.

"Deadpool!" she shook him harder.

This time, he awoke with a start, lashing out. He hit her in the face with one hand and she stumbled back, falling and hitting her head on the mattress of the other bed. She didn't take it personally though; she figured that it was just a reflexive reaction from his nightmares.

Deadpool sat up in bed, working on catching his breath as he gazed over at where Chinara was sprawled on the floor. He had gone to sleep in his costume, so in the dark, with his mask on, she couldn't read his expression.

Cautiously, after her head had stopped throbbing, the assassin pushed herself up on her feet. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to say.

""You were having a nightmare," she said simply.

"Sorry," he replied.

He sounded like she felt-unnerved, and she then felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed. She wasn't sure where this sudden concern came from, but maybe, just maybe, there was something more to him than just being a loudmouth.

"No," he said, turning away.

* * *

"Oh god, finally," she said when they had finally reached their destination. She wasn't sure she would have been able to survive much longer in the pick-up truck with Deadpool.

He hadn't spoken a word about the incident last night, and so she didn't bring it up. If he didn't want to talk about it-and it was shocking that there was _anything_ he didn't want to talk about-then she wasn't going to push it.

"So," Chinara said as she peered through the window at the tall corporate building, "Should we wait until night and sneak in, or just find the back door?"

After she finished speaking, she looked over at Deadpool only to discover that the driver's door was open and he was already gone. Bewildered, she looked around to see that he was heading into the building. Sighing, she shook her head. So much for planning. She opened the door and slid out of the truck, dodging traffic to get to the building across the street. She entered the lobby just in time to witness Deadpool threatening the receptionist.

"Be a dear and tell me where I can find Vincent Burch," he said.

The woman on the other side of the desk shrank away from the gun aimed in her direction. "I-In his office on the twenty-seventh floor," she stammered.

"Thanks," Deadpool said, "By the way, are you doing anything later? Maybe we could-"

He was abruptly interrupted when Chinara kicked him in the leg-hard. He yelped.

"Son of a-" he turned to see Chinara gazing at him with narrowed eyes, her arms crossed. "Don't _do_ that."

"Then be serious about this," she told him, also upset that she hadn't had time to grab her Onyxlock gear. She had that peculiar naked feeling again.

"I _am_ being serious," he retorted.

She rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms and starting for the elevators. "Come on. They're going to call security soon," she said.

"Like some rent-a-cop is going to be able to stop us," Deadpool said as Chinara jabbed the _up_ button.

"_That's_ not what I'm concerned with," the assassin said icily, "Unlike you, I work hard to keep a low profile in my line of work. You know, I stay off the grid."

"And _clearly_ that hasn't worked since someone wants you dead," Deadpool pointed out.

Chinara narrowed her eyes, stepping into the elevator as the doors opened. "It's probably just someone I worked with before who got jealous," she retorted, pressing the button marked 27 a lot gentler than she did the previous button.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've worked with people before?"

"Yeah. Why, is that a surprise?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," Deadpool said, "You seem really…_really_ anti-social. And uptight. When was the last time you got laid?"

Chinara groaned, crossing her arms and wishing to hit her head repeatedly against the wall of the elevator. "I refuse to have this conversation with you," she said curtly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it's none of your business," she said, turning her attention to the numbers above the door.

A few minutes passed in blissful silence.

"So it's been a while?"

"_No_," she snapped, "We are _not_ talking about this."

"Why?" he asked yet again, and she ground her teeth together.

"_Because_," she said, turning to him.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened and suddenly there was gunfire. A bullet tore through her shoulder and she gave a surprised sound as she stumbled back. She pressed a hand over the wound to staunch the bleeding, ducking down to avoid getting shot again. Backing against the wall, she slid down to the floor, shifting a gun in the hand that wasn't pressed firmly over her shoulder wound. She sent a dirty look in Deadpool's direction even as he began to return fire on the guards down the hall.

"I have gotten shot more times since I've been hanging around with you than I have my entire _life_," Chinara grumbled, flexing her shoulder as it healed.

"Let me make it up to you then," Deadpool said as he dispatched the guards, whom he probably would never have killed if they hadn't shot first. They'd just been doing their job, after all.

"Wha-do I even want to know?" she asked warily, pushing herself to her feet.

"Have dinner with me sometime, after this is all over," he said, holstering his guns again.

Chinara raised a brow, staring at him. "_That's_ supposed to make all of this up to me?" she said.

"Did you have something else in mind?" Deadpool said, "Something a little more intimate maybe? I could go for that, sure."

She was silent a moment, letting that sink in, then made a face and pushed past him to get out of the elevator.

"So is that a no?" he asked as he followed her down the hallway.

"It's definitely a no," she said, stepping over the bodies of the guards.

She kept an eye on the doors as she passed them, looking for the one with Burch on it. When she finally found it, she paused for a moment, shifting her grip on her gun before twisting the knob and pushing the door open. The office was empty except for a woman who looked like a secretary. Definitely not who they were looking for.

"Where is he?" Chinara demanded as she entered the room, looking around to make sure the woman was the only one there. She didn't want any surprises. "Where's Vincent Burch?"

The woman stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, clearly uncertain whether she should answer that question or not. "He's…not here," she said at last.

"No shit," Chinara said, losing her patience a bit. If they'd come all the way out here for nothing, she was going to be _really_ upset.

"The hot chick at the front desk said he was up here. Clearly someone lied to us," Deadpool said, standing in the doorway behind Chinara.

"He just left for a business meeting," the woman said nervously.

"Where?" Chinara asked, narrowing her eyes.

The woman floundered for a moment, hesitating to answer.

"_Where_?" Chinara repeated.

"I-In Washington State," the woman stammered.

"_Washington_?" the assassin repeated, exasperated. This whole thing was really starting to feel like a wild goose chase. First they went from California to Arizona, then here in Nevada, and now they were supposed to go to Washington? She turned to look over her shoulder at Deadpool to see what he thought of this.

"Well, sure. If you think it's worth it," he said with a shrug.

"We're _not_ driving again," she said.

"And we're not flying either," he countered.

"Fine. There are other ways," she said, turning back to the woman, "Write the address down, now."


	6. Seattle, Washington

**Chapter Six – "Seattle, Washington"**

It was late by the time they had arrived in Washington, despite their new method of travel-teleportation. It was cold and windy, with heavy snow coming down. It was enough to make Chinara shiver and wish she'd packed something better than the thin jacket she was wearing now, which did little to protect her from the cold. She was also tired and stressed, and just wanted a good night's sleep, which she had been denied the previous night by Deadpool's snoring and sleep talking. It took a while of searching to find a hotel, but when they did she went inside to get them a room while he stayed outside to answer a phone call he'd just received.

"I need a room for the night," Chinara said as she approached the front desk.

"Is it just you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"No, I have a friend with me," Chinara said.

"Alright, well, the only room we have left has a single queen bed. And the heat's broken," the woman said with a small apologetic smile.

Chinara hesitated a moment to think about this, looking out the front windows to where Deadpool stood out in the snow, talking on his cell phone still. It had been bad enough sharing a room with two beds with him; did she really want to deal with a room with _one_ bed? If she hadn't been so tired she would have just gone to a different hotel, but as it was, she couldn't take going back out into the snow to look around for however long.

"Yeah, I'll take it," she relented at last.

* * *

It was a nice room, at least, Chinara discovered when she unlocked the door and walked in. It was just…cold. Not as cold as it was outside, just not as warm as she would have liked it. She threw her duffel bag down in the corner by the table and strode over to the windows to pull the curtains closed before kicking off her shoes in the general direction of where she'd put her bag.

"Cozy," Deadpool commented as he came in after her, closing the door.

She shot him a dirty look just in case he was thinking of doing anything, but she wasn't sure if he even noticed.

"You can sleep in the chair," she said dismissively, not wanting to even bring up the subject of sharing the bed as she pulled the covers down.

To her surprise though, he didn't even question her. Any other time she might have found it odd, but this time she just didn't care. She was much more occupied with trying to ignore how cold she was curled up under the covers even with all of her clothes on. The sound of the wind whistling outside as it blew snow flurries through the night sky coupled with the occasional creak of the chair was oddly comforting as she tried to fall asleep, but every time she had just about dozed off, she'd shiver from the cold and wake herself up.

She had just about dozed off again when she caught the sound of movement and woke up at once, her eyes snapping open. The fact that it was just Deadpool did nothing to comfort her since he was sliding into bed next to her. She would have recoiled, but the spot she was curled up in was relatively warmer than the rest of the bed by now and she didn't have the heart to move.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, peering at him through the darkness.

"You looked cold," he said simply, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm f-fine," she retorted, though she couldn't deny the fact that he was warm, possibly because of his costume that he still wore.

"You'd sound much more convincing if your teeth weren't chattering," he pointed out.

She attempted to glare at him, but she had a feeling it wasn't very affective. It also didn't help that she was already starting to feel better and wasn't shivering as bad as before.

"If you try _anything_, anything at all…" Chinara left the end of the threat hanging, not needing to complete it to get her point across.

"I know, I know. I'll regret it. Bodily harm and all that," Deadpool confirmed.

"So long as we're clear," the assassin said, tentatively closing her eyes.

Chinara was tense and wary for a few long moments, waiting to see if he was going to try something that she wouldn't approve of. He didn't do anything though, barely even moved. He just held her close, both of his hands in perfectly acceptable places, and enveloped her in warmth. Eventually, she was able to relax and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In the morning when she woke up, she was alone in bed and Deadpool was in the shower. How anyone could shower when it was this frigid in the room, she didn't know. He couldn't have been gone long though because she was still cozy and the spot next to her in bed was still warm where he had been sleeping. She wasn't quite sure what to think about what had happened last night. She'd felt safe in his arms, despite all the times she'd wanted nothing to do with him since they had met. Maybe she even-no, she couldn't consider that, especially not now. They still had something important to take care of.

Taking advantage of the fact that he was technically out of the room, Chinara got changed into some clean clothes _and_ decided to put on her Onyxlock gear ahead of time. With all the times she had been shot and attacked lately when she wasn't expecting it, she wanted to be prepared for a change.

She was all ready and waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed, for her own chance to use the bathroom by the time that Deadpool was done. She didn't look at him when he emerged from the bathroom, just quietly moved past him and closed the door behind her.

* * *

"About last night…" Chinara said as they walked into the downtown office building that they'd been given the address for back in Nevada. "…Thanks."

Deadpool shrugged. "It was nothing," he said. He came close to adding something else, but figured she wouldn't appreciate his humor and would just give him another dirty look, so he didn't.

As they approached the front desk where the receptionist sat, Chinara quickened her pace so that she got there ahead of Deadpool, wanting to be the one to do the talking this time instead of having to witness him wave guns at innocent people again.

"We're looking for Vincent Burch," the assassin said with a pleasant smile, hoping she would be able to get this done without threatening anybody, "We were told that he's in a business meeting here."

"Well…yes," the receptionist said, her uneasy gaze flickering from Chinara to Deadpool as he approached, "But he can't be bothered right now."

Chinara remained patient, or at least, she tried to. "His secretary told us he would be here, it's _very_ important that we speak with him as soon as possible," she said.

"You'll have to wait until the meeting is over, which is in another two hours," the receptionist said.

Abruptly, Chinara caught the smell of her unease turn to the smell of fear, and looked over to see Deadpool had drawn a gun and was aiming it in the direction of the woman behind the desk. The assassin sighed, shaking her head. So much for getting this done without threatening anyone.

"Just tell us where he is. We've been through too much shit to play any more games. Unless you'd like to play a _different_ kind of game," Deadpool said.

Chinara shot him a dirty look.

So much for avoiding that.

The color drained from the receptionist's face and she hurried to access the information on her computer. She flinched back a bit when Deadpool stepped around the desk to see the computer screen for himself, but he didn't threaten her anymore. In fact, he didn't say anything to her, just holstered his gun and headed for the elevators.

"Why can't we ever do things _my_ way?" Chinara asked, hurrying to keep up with him.

"We _did_ do things your way. That's how we got here," Deadpool reminded her.

"I meant when it comes to threatening people," she clarified, "Not every situation calls for waving a gun in someone's face."

"It's quicker that way though," he said, stepping into the elevator when the doors opened. "Gives them motivation."

She quirked a brow, stepping in after him. "Patience works too," she said.

"I'm not a very patient person," he said with a shrug, pressing the button for the appropriate floor.

"Clearly," Chinara said. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall of the elevator car. With her luck, they'd be shot at again when the doors opened, and she didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time.

She supposed that it was just to prove her wrong that when the doors opened there was no one in sight, just a long hallway. She shifted a gun in one hand just to be safe though and then stepped out. Despite the fact that everything was quiet, she stayed alert and cautious as she moved down the hallway, keeping track of Deadpool out of the corner of her eye as he trailed along next to her.

Every conference room she poked her head into was empty, and she was quickly growing frustrated by the time they reached the last one. She was just about to declare this another dead end when the large flat screen in the last room flickered to life, displaying the image of a man in a business suit. Chinara flinched a bit, whirling around to face the screen.

"Sorry I couldn't be there to greet the two of you in person," the man said, though he didn't sound very sorry at all.

"Vincent Burch?" Chinara guessed.

"Correct," he said with a smile that was more unsettling than pleasant. "You two have been going through a lot of trouble to find me, I've heard."

"Yeah, a wild fucking goose chase," Deadpool said.

"You set us up. We want to know why," Chinara said, glaring at the man on the screen.

"I'd much rather tell you both in person," Vincent said.

"Works for me. All the better to put a bullet through your skull afterwards," Deadpool said.

Vincent merely smiled at the threat. "I'm in Montana. I can send a private jet to pick you up," he said.

"No," Chinara said, "We'll get there ourselves." She wasn't going to trust anything from this man, especially not an offer of transportation.

"Suit yourself," Vincent said with a shrug, "I'll just send more information on the location to your cell phone then."

"Great, thanks," she said dryly.

"Though you might want to hurry up if you want to make it there," Vincent added.

She frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. Before she had a chance to though, Deadpool had grabbed her by the arm and was pulling her towards the door.

"What, what is it?" she asked, stumbling and nearly falling as she tried to keep up.

"Bomb," he said, pulling her into the hallway with him.

Her eyes widened a bit. _Another_ bomb? How come _she_ never noticed these? She was good at these things and yet this was the second time he'd discovered a bomb while she had been completely clueless to its existence.

She was about to voice this thought when suddenly the conference room they'd just been in exploded, the windows shattering outwards and sending glass flying across the hallway. Shards of glass flew in her direction as the force from the blast made her stumble hard. She'd started to go down when Deadpool caught her, shielding her from harm as they both tumbled.

The floor shook beneath her as a wave of heat rolled across her, but she was uninjured. A chain of smaller explosions started to go off behind them, and Deadpool pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the stairwell. Smoke stung her eyes and sensitive nose, making her cough, but she could see well enough to make out the door as it was pushed open, and then the stairs beyond.

They paused there for a moment and she took deep breaths as she leaned back against the wall, coughing and catching her breath. Once her eyes had stopped watering, Chinara looked up and saw Deadpool picking shards of glass out of his back. Her expression changed into a concerned frown as she watched him, though he didn't seem to notice that her attention was suddenly on him.

"Are you alright?" she asked as he dropped another shard of glass to the ground.

"I'm fine," he said, shrugging a little even though that probably wasn't the best idea.

"Alright…" she said.

He had protected her, even though he didn't have to.

"Thanks," she added.

"Yeah. Let's just get to Montana. I really wanna give that Burch guy a piece of my mind," he said.

"Agreed," she nodded.


End file.
